All Saints Day & All Souls Day


All Saints Day

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ!

Today, we hear one of the most beautiful and challenging passages in all of Scripture — the Beatitudes. Jesus goes up the mountain, sits down, and begins to teach. Just as Moses once ascended Mount Sinai to receive the Law of God, now Jesus, the new Lawgiver, proclaims a new law — not carved on stone, but written on the human heart.

He begins not with commands or threats, but with blessings. “Blessed are the poor in spirit... Blessed are the meek... Blessed are the merciful... Blessed are the pure of heart...” These are not just poetic phrases — they are the portrait of Christ Himself.

But they also paint a portrait of what we are called to become if we truly want to follow Him.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.”

To be poor in spirit is to recognize that we depend on God for everything. Yet, how many people today live as if they owe nothing to anyone — not even to God? We live in a world where selfishness often disguises itself as independence. People say, “I don’t need anyone. I earned everything myself.”

But the truth is, no one succeeds alone. Every one of us stands on the shoulders of others — parents who sacrificed, friends who supported, teachers who guided, co-workers who shared the burden. To forget this is to lose humility and gratitude.

I once heard a story of a young man who became very successful in business. At an awards dinner, he gave a long speech about his hard work, his intelligence, his determination. But an older woman at his table quietly whispered, “He forgot to thank his mother.”

Later that night, he remembered how his mother worked two jobs to pay for his education, how she prayed for him every night. And he wept. He realized that his success was not his alone.

Selfishness blinds us to the truth that every blessing we have is a gift — not a personal achievement, but a grace from God and the help of others.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

The meek are not weak — they are those who have power under control. The selfish person says, “It’s all about me.” The meek person says, “It’s all about God.”

A meek person listens. A meek person says “thank you.” A meek person recognizes that others also have dignity and worth.

Think of the people who never say thank you — to their spouse, to their parents, to the cashier, to their co-worker, to their friends, to the janitor. They take kindness as if it were owed to them. But gratitude is what keeps our hearts alive. It’s what keeps love growing.

One man once said, “I only realized how much my wife did for me after she passed away — the meals, the clean home, the prayers she whispered for me.” How tragic it is that so many people discover gratitude only after it’s too late.

If you still have someone who helps you, loves you, or sacrifices for you — thank them while you can.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”

Mercy is not weakness. It’s love that refuses to stop at justice. It’s compassion that reaches out even when others don’t deserve it.

Selfish people rarely show mercy because they are focused on themselves. But those who are merciful live with open hands and open hearts.

They understand that all of us are sinners saved only by God’s grace.

A parishioner once told me about her father, who was a tough man. He never said “I love you.” But when his wife fell ill, he became her full-time caregiver. He cooked, cleaned, and prayed for her every day. He showed mercy through his actions. When she passed away, he said with tears, “Now I understand how much she loved me.”

Mercy teaches us gratitude because it opens our eyes to love that we often take for granted.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”

To be a peacemaker doesn’t only mean avoiding conflict; it means actively building bridges between people, families, and hearts.

Selfishness divides. Gratitude unites.

Think of the families where one person always expects to be served, but never serves others. There’s tension, silence, resentment. But when someone decides to be humble, to apologize, to say “thank you,” peace returns.

Maybe you have someone in your life you’ve been taking for granted — a spouse, a friend, a co-worker, a relative. Don’t wait until they’re gone to say, “I’m sorry” or “I appreciate you.” A single act of gratitude can heal years of distance.

When Jesus says, “Blessed are you,” He’s not just describing those in Heaven. He’s describing how to live Heaven on earth.

Happiness is not found in getting everything we want. It’s found in recognizing everything we already have — and giving thanks.

If we are selfish, we may have comfort, but not joy. If we are grateful, we may have little, but we will have peace.

The Beatitudes invite us to a new way of living — a life that is not about taking, but about giving; not about pride, but about humility; not about having more, but about becoming more like Christ.
Today Jesus is inviting us up the mountain — not to admire the view, but to see our lives from His perspective.

Let us ask ourselves honestly:

  • Do I live with gratitude or with entitlement?
  • Do I thank others, or do I take them for granted?
  • Do I make others feel appreciated, or invisible?

If we find selfishness in our hearts, then today is the day to start over. To say “thank you” more often. To see others’ efforts. To pray, “Lord, make me poor in spirit, meek, merciful, and grateful.”

Because the happiest people in this world are not those who have the most, but those who appreciate the most.

So let us go and live the Beatitudes — not just by words, but by hearts that bless, forgive, and give thanks.

Then we, too, will hear Jesus say, “Blessed are you.. Amen.

 

All Souls Day

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ!

Today’s Gospel brings us one of the most consoling and yet one of the most challenging teachings of Jesus.

At first hearing, it sounds like pure comfort — a promise of acceptance, mercy, and eternal life. And it is that. Jesus reassures us that no one who comes to Him will ever be turned away. There is no sin too great, no life too broken, no heart too lost for the mercy of God.

But if we listen more deeply, we hear also a calling — a challenge that demands a response. Because to “come to Jesus” is not simply to utter the words, “I believe.” It is to live in such a way that our belief becomes visible — that our actions, our choices, our daily behavior, and even our smallest words show that Christ truly lives within us.

Let us first rest in those beautiful words: “Whoever comes to me I will never reject.”

We live in a world full of rejection. People are rejected for their past mistakes, their looks, their failures, their weaknesses. Even in families, friendships, and workplaces, rejection can wound the heart deeply. But Jesus says: “Not with me.”

He does not look at our resumes, our achievements, or our popularity. He looks at our hearts. He sees beyond our sins to the person God created us to be. He never rejects those who sincerely turn toward Him.

This promise should fill us with hope but also with humility. Because Jesus receives us as we are, but He loves us too much to let us stay that way. His mercy always calls us to conversion.

To “come to Jesus” implies movement. It means we cannot remain in the same place spiritually, morally, or emotionally. It is not enough to say we believe; we must move our hearts toward Him.

Faith is not static. It’s a journey. And every journey requires steps — steps of humility, repentance, trust, and love.

There’s a difference between knowing about Jesus and knowing Him. Many people know about Him — they can quote Scripture, they know the prayers, they even come to church. But their hearts remain far from Him. They have not allowed His Word to transform the way they live. It’s like standing on the shore and admiring the ocean, but never stepping into the water. You can talk about the sea, describe its beauty, and even tell others how refreshing it is — but until you take that step and immerse yourself, you’ll never experience its true depth.

The same is true with faith. Saying, “I believe” is the beginning, not the end. The real test is how that belief changes us.

There’s an old saying: “Your actions speak so loudly, I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

How many times do we meet people who claim to believe in God, but live as though He doesn’t exist? They pray with their lips but not with their lives. They say “I love God” — but they refuse to forgive, refuse to help, refuse to change.

Jesus once said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only those who do the will of my Father.” (Matthew 7:21)

Faith without action is like a lamp with no oil — it may look beautiful, but it gives no light.

I once met a man who was proud to call himself a Catholic. He wore a big cross on his chest, always spoke about faith, and never missed a Sunday Mass. But during the week, he was harsh to his employees, rude to his wife, and unkind to those in need.

One day, a new worker in his company — a young woman — said to him quietly, “You talk a lot about God, but you don’t treat people as He would.” Her words pierced him. That night, he looked in the mirror and saw a man who wore the cross, but didn’t carry it.

From that day, he began a slow journey of change. He prayed not to be seen as holy, but to become holy. He started helping quietly, listening patiently, and forgiving freely. And one day, someone said to him, “Peter, you don’t talk about God as much anymore.” He smiled and said, “I’m trying to let my life do the talking.”

That is what real faith looks like — not loud, but genuine; not full of words, but full of love.

Many Catholics today live what I call “comfortable faith.” They believe — but only as long as it costs them nothing. They’ll pray, but not if it means forgiving. They’ll give, but not if it means sacrifice. They’ll say “Jesus is Lord,” but still want to be in control of everything.

But faith that costs nothing is worth nothing. True belief will always push us beyond our comfort zones.

Jesus didn’t say, “Take up your cushion and sit beside me.” He said, “Take up your cross and follow me.” He called us to a faith that is active, sacrificial, and brave.

A woman once told me about her son who had left the Church. He said, “Mom, I still believe in God, but   I don’t need religion. I don’t need Mass. I don’t need to prove anything.”

The mother simply said, “Son, believing without living is like saying you love me but never visiting, never calling, never helping. You say the words but I don’t feel the love.”

Her son went silent. Later, he came back to Church. Because deep down, he realized she was right — love that never expresses itself isn’t love at all.

The same is true with God. We cannot just “believe in our hearts” and then live like He doesn’t matter. Love for God must overflow into daily life — into our choices, our compassion, our willingness to serve.

Jesus said He came to do the Father’s will and that will is love. But sometimes we live as though the world revolves around us. We take others’ kindness for granted. We expect help, understanding, forgiveness and rarely offer it in return.

How many times have we ignored the people who quietly serve us? The spouse who sacrifices daily, the friend who listens, the parish volunteer who cleans, the elderly parent who prays for us each night?

Gratitude is one of the clearest signs of living faith. When we recognize others’ goodness, we recognize God’s hand in our lives. But when we act as if we deserve everything, we forget that all is grace.

A truly Christian heart says, “Thank you.” Not just to God, but to the people He sends into our lives as signs of His love.

Jesus says clearly: “I came down from heaven not to do my own will, but the will of the One who sent me.”

The will of the Father is that none should be lost — that everyone who believes in the Son should have eternal life. But that word “believes” — in the original Greek — doesn’t just mean intellectual belief. It means trusting so deeply that you act on it.

To do the Father’s will means to forgive when it’s hard, to speak truth when it’s risky, to serve when it’s inconvenient, and to love when it’s undeserved. It means letting go of pride, jealousy, resentment, and indifference — all those things that make our hearts heavy and distant from God.

Let’s bring this to everyday life:

  • If you say you believe in Jesus, show it by the way you treat people who cannot repay you.
  • If you say you trust in God, stop living in constant anxiety as though everything depends only on you.
  • If you say you love God, show it by loving your neighbor — especially the difficult one.
  • If you say you follow Christ, then forgive as He forgave, serve as He served, and speak with kindness as He did.

My friends, at the end of our lives, Jesus will not ask how often we spoke about faith — but how faithfully we lived it.

He will look at our hands — did they help, or did they harm? He will look at our hearts — did they love, or did they close themselves? He will look at our lives — did we walk toward Him, or away from Him?

Let us not be satisfied with being believers in word only. Let our faith be seen, heard, and felt — in the way we love, forgive, and serve. Amen.